Nunc a Summo Corrui Gloria Privatus
by DarkPhoenixesRising
Summary: Darkness rules the world but it is not who you expect. A different and unique Alternate Reality Fic...everything is twisted and nothing is really what it seems!


# Nunc a Summo Corrui Gloria Privatus

## Chapter One: Prisoner's Freedom

By: DarkPhoenixesRising

Disclaimer: We own nothing here just the twisted plotline. All else belong to JKR

I have failed. The silent and dark mist surrounding me echoes my mood. I have failed the world and in so doing, have consigned it to eternal Darkness and evil. I have failed to prevent the rise of the darkest Dark Lord to ever sit upon any throne. The one who should've been able to prevent his rise failed. I failed the world that I knew. The world of love and beauty; my world of Light. A world where good was always victorious over evil. Where good always prevailed. Where good was righteous and just but not arrogant. Not arrogant enough to think that one's powers could have no boundaries. That one person could never fail. That one, such as myself, would always win no matter the cost. No matter the cost…

It is because of my folly that the world of Light has fallen to ruin; the world I had known for several years is lost to me now…lost, never to be seen by my eyes again. I sit here; unable to see past the swirling darkness that surrounds me day and night. I am unaware of the passing of days or weeks or months. I have only one thought to entertain myself in this new world of mine. 

What caused the sudden chain of events? 

I think about this in my waking hours and it haunts my nights. Images of things past come to mind; things as they should have been which were suddenly overshadowed by the Darkness that we all dreaded. A darkness that I was supposed to have been able to defeat. But, I was unable to.

How could I not defeat him?

I ask myself this all the time. What it his dark powers that I knew nothing about that protected him? Did I not use my own powers wisely enough…or had I let it effect me. The it that I speak of is arrogance…I was the Bringer of Light. I was the chosen one. There was nothing that I couldn't defeat. Everyone looked to me as their leader. 

"Arrogance," whispered a hollow voice in my prison.

I was arrogant; though I wish I could say I was not as it is not a virtue I pride myself on. But, I had allowed it to happen and thus I had fallen. My arrogance, my pride had caused me to fail. I see and exist now only in the darkness that surrounds me all because of pride. I fear that soon this darkness will come to possess me and rule my life. But, I must prevail even though all hope seems lost. The world that I knew, the world that had once held joy demanded that my followers, wherever they may be, and I do something but what exactly I did not know.

_Where were my loyal followers?_ I wondered as I paced my prison, looking for a way out but finding none.At least my enemies no longer came to gloat over my defeat daily anymore; now they came but once a year and the time of their "visit' had already passed. While I was relieved about that fact I was also depressed by it. I could only get a glimpse of the world I had left behind when someone "visited" me and these brief flashes of thoughts and images were the only contact with that world that I received from beyond my prison. All other times, the darkness was my only companion but that same darkness was slowly overwhelming my spirit and it had already caused the years to blend together into one long age of darkness and longing.

My heart despaired at ever being free again. Would I never know the feel of the sun and wind upon my face again or know the joy of life and of living things around me? I felt cold tears falling from my eyes as the darkness around me blurred. How long I cried, I couldn't tell. It might have been seconds or days but I finally stopped as I noticed a pinprick of light glowing in the darkness, which signaled the arrival of someone; someone who was coming toward the mirror that had become my downfall. The ebony darkness around me turned a dark gray when it became suffused with the light coming from the doorway.

A shadowy figure was moving slowly toward the mirror that was my prison. I became overwhelmed with only one desire and that was to escape from this cursed place and never to see it again yet I knew there was no chance of escape. The spell that held me bound inside the now cursed Mirror of Erised was an ancient and powerful Dark Curse and it was, as far as I knew, unbreakable but I had a feeling that something was about to happen and that perhaps my enemies had let some detail slip through their fingers as they had in the past. This indistinct figure prompted these feelings and I waited for it to draw nearer, sensing the goodness and power within whomever it was just as I had sensed the evil in those who came to torment me.

Several moments passed and the shadowy figure resolved itself into a young boy with a mop of blonde hair that was falling into his gray eyes. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and looked fearfully at the now closed door. It was then that I noticed that the boy's face was streaked with dirt and tears and that there was a purpling bruise on his cheek. He looked back at the mirror, longing visible in his bright, tearful eyes. He fell to the foot of the mirror, still staring within it. He reached out a hand toward me, his hand just touching the mirror's silvered surface and tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Help…" he said in a voice barely above a whisper. "Make them stop…please."

The child huddled there, his hand still on the mirror, reaching for me and in that moment I longed to be able to comfort him. I stretched out my hand toward his; trying to offer what little comfort I could and was surprised to find that my hand was disappearing through the mirror. I felt something pulling me out of the mirror. There was a popping sound and I found myself on the floor beside the boy outside the mirror, staring at the place that had held my imprisoned for so long. I felt hope beginning to grow in my heart and I smiled for the first time in years. I was free.

The boy looked startled by my sudden appearance. He jumped to his feet and made as if to bolt for the door.

"Have no fear," I said quietly. "You have freed me from my prison and I am ever in your debt."

My words seemed to calm him and he stopped just before the door and turned to face me again. I took a closer look at the one who'd been my savior and found that the boy's face was familiar to me. He had the same shape features and blonde hair as the man who had been my most able lieutenant. There had been a child born to him shortly before my betrayal and fall. Looking at this child I knew he was related to that lieutenant of mine. Much time must have passed for that boy to be at Hogwarts now.

"What year is this?" I asked, my heart pounding.

The boy looked startled by the question but I had to know the answer.

"1995…the fifteenth…y…year of the r…reign of the D…Dark T…Terror," the boy stammered.

My heart quailed.

"Fifteen years…." I murmured in complete disbelief.

Fifteen years had passed while I languished in that prison. The forces of the Dark had held the world for fifteen years. Now I understood the reason why none of my followers had come for me; they had very likely been killed. My mind was having trouble grasping the idea that so much time had passed since I had last been in the world. I turned, pale faced and wide eyed to the child again.

"What is your name and house?" I asked quietly.

"D…Draco M…Malfoy. S…Slytherin," he said in a stuttering mumble, tears still falling from his eyes.

"Hello, Draco. I'm called Tom…Tom Riddle,' I saw his eyes widen in recognition. 

"The most powerful wizard of Light the world had seen in one hundred years," he intoned as if reciting from a History of Magic textbook. " Direct line descendant of Hogwarts Founder Salazar Slytherin the Noble. Betrayed by one of his own. Disappeared while fighting the Potters and the Terror. Presumed dead: 31 October 1981."

He looked at me with shining eyes as if I were a storybook hero come to life.

"I was imprisoned in that mirror but I am definitely not dead," I smiled and Draco grinned.

"Tom Riddle was also a friend of my father's," he said proudly, in what was almost a defiant voice, though there were still tears in his eyes.

"How is your father?" I asked, fearing that I already knew the answer but wanting to hear it anyway.

The light went out of Draco's eyes and his shoulders slumped.

"My father is dead," he said in grieving voice. "I never knew him."

"And your mother?" I continued, dreading the answer.

"She may as well be dead for all the difference it makes. She's in St. Mungos. She want mad with grief when my father died and tried to kill us both," he said, anger evident in his voice, as tears began to flow again.

I stood in silence, shocked by what I had heard. I held out my arms to the still grieving boy and he flew into them, sobbing brokenly into my shoulder.

"I knew you father and I have never known a better man then he was."

"Please help us…" he muttered over and over again.

"I have returned and I promise I will do all in my power to help put an end to this evil."

The words seemed to calm Draco because soon his crying began to slow but they did nothing to ease the grief and turmoil within my own heart.


End file.
